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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29853750">Someday a Second Spring Will Come Again</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesthete_laureate/pseuds/aesthete_laureate'>aesthete_laureate</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gravity Falls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Again in that weird sibling way, In a weird sibling way, Post-Canon Fix-It, healthy communication?, in my lobby?, kind of making up, talking it out</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:27:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,402</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29853750</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesthete_laureate/pseuds/aesthete_laureate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For a lifetime we sat sleeping below the frozen lake. In our slumber we felt the water - cold, heavy, dark - in our lungs. We drowned for years, side by side, but we did not die.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Someday a Second Spring Will Come Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>basically I went down a youtube rabbithole where i watched a bunch of cult reviews? happy march everybody :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>-</p><p>“Oh wow, you’re out of the basement.”</p><p>He doesn’t get much by way of response. He wasn’t expecting one.</p><p>There’s an obvious tenseness to Ford’s shoulders as he methodically washes the dishes. His mouth is set in a slight frown, he’s holding the already-chipped plate too tightly, and has a white-knuckled grip on the sponge in his other hand. If not for the initial quiet hum of acknowledgement, Stan would almost think his brother wasn’t aware of his presence in the kitchen at all.</p><p>He folds his arms over his chest, then leans his hip against the countertop beside the sink. One ankle crosses casually over the other. </p><p>Ford doesn’t look up. He just sets the plate aside and picks one coffee cup up out of the small pile of them already in the basin. He’d been holed up in the basement for the past few days, and in all likelihood, had probably finally gotten sick enough of the clutter building up to brave a trip to the ‘upstairs’ so he could give the handful of identical plain white mugs a cursory wash. </p><p>The stretch of silence eventually weighs on Stan, who lifts one hand to rub at his nose absentmindedly. He sniffs, crosses his arms tightly in front of him again, and turns his head away. As he waits for something, some response, anything, his eyes flick from the kitchen door to the tiny dining table at the far end of the room, to the hanging light fixture with its stupid new light bulb. When thirty seconds pass and he still gets nothing, he speaks up again, voice low and even somewhat abashed. “..did that upset you?”</p><p>Ford sighs, and it’s a frustrated sound, but it’s not angry. He puts the cup in his hand down too hard against the counter, then swiftly turns to pick up the dish towel hanging from the oven door to dry his hands. The sound of porcelain hitting laminate makes Stan wince, but he remains standing where he is.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Stan stares. Ford doesn’t make any move to follow up on his answer, to offer any explanation, and after a few moments Stan just shifts uncomfortably and glances down to the floor, scuffing a socked foot against a particularly bad crack in the hardwood. Fine. If he’s not going to say anything, then they’ll just stand here in awkward silence. It beats sneaking around the house while pretending not to avoid each other, albeit not by very much.</p><p>Ford sighs through his nose, and it’s pretty obvious he wants to be left alone. He doesn’t look up, but he also doesn't outright tell Stan to leave - which means he isn’t actually lying about not being legitimately upset. He starts to wipe down the counter with the dish towel, even reaching over behind Stan so that the entire surface gets a perfunctory cleaning. His elbow bumps roughly into his brother’s side, and even though it hurts he doesn’t say anything.</p><p>Not for a while, at least. Stan is considering his next words carefully, thinking over how to phrase what he wants to say, but he just ends up settling for a safe, admittedly kind of lame, “I haven’t seen you in a few days.” </p><p>His voice is softer than he’d like, more hesitant and less accusatory than he was going for. Ford’s voice matches him in volume, but by contrast his tone is flat and matter-of-fact. “No. You haven’t.”</p><p>Stan clears his throat, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. This isn’t going very well. Usually he can get someone to rise to the bait, but Ford seems completely disinterested in hashing things out between them. And what can he possibly do about that?</p><p>There’s another long pause, and then Ford sighs heavily, his shoulders lowering just slightly. He finally stops cleaning and straightens up to look straight ahead, draping the dish towel halfway into the sink and over the edge of the countertop. His hands come to rest flat on the cracked surface. “That’s why it upset me.”</p><p>Stan’s reply is an almost inaudible, “oh.”</p><p>Something passes between them, and Ford’s outward icy display seems to crack, splitting down the middle to reveal something softer, vulnerable. He turns on his heel, his back no longer to the room, and crosses his arms in an unconscious mirror of his brother’s posture.</p><p>Picking idly at the hem of his shirt, Stan speaks slowly at first, as if mulling over his thoughts. “It’s just.” He pauses, then starts up again, halting. “You act like it physically pains you to be in the same room as me. Is it asking too much of you to hang around sometimes?” His voice rises with the question, but he soon deflates again. It’s just the two of them, in this quiet and unguarded little space, and he doesn’t want to overwhelm it. He just wants Ford to listen. “I missed you, you know? I.. I want to see my brother.”</p><p>With another deep, heavy sigh, Ford turns his body away, toward the kitchen door. He tilts his head downward, effectively obscuring his face from Stan’s field of view. “It’s..”</p><p>Something in his voice is wrong, and Stan catches on to it immediately. His voice gentles, and he leans forward to try and get a better look at him, “..are you okay?”</p><p>Ford nods, then shrugs. His eyes are misting over, but he keeps his voice low so that it doesn’t waver. Stan feels something drop out in the bottom of his stomach. “I.. don’t know why I’m overreacting like this.”</p><p>Stan throws pretense to the wind, scoots closer, and nudges Ford’s shoulder gently. He leans in close and tries to look him in the eye, but his brother is still resolutely looking away. “..what’s goin’ on?”</p><p>Another helpless shrug. Ford’s voice is hardly a whisper as he answers, honestly, “I dunno.”</p><p>He sniffles and shrugs, letting out an annoyed grunt at himself, at his lack of control over his emotions. He’s not supposed to cry. He’s the older brother. The strong one.</p><p>Stan’s voice is uncharacteristically, impossibly careful when he asks, “..did you maybe, you know. Did you miss me too?”</p><p>As if on cue, the rest of Ford’s facade drops away, dissolves like salt in water at any concentration less than twenty-eight percent. He starts to struggle through an explanation, his voice audibly unstable, but he pushes through to force the words out. “..I’m. I-I’m just. I was.. I was so wrapped up in the pressure of being the good one, the good kid, the smart one, I.. I forgot I was supposed to look out for you too.” He pauses, glances over his shoulder, but when his eyes meet identical blue ones it’s suddenly too much, and his gaze darts away again. “I never realized you needed me to look out for you, not until it was already too late. And now, its- now, you don’t need that anymore. Now I can’t do anything to fix it.”</p><p>For a beat, two, there’s nothing and no response from Stan but a shocked silence.</p><p>Ford shakes his head quickly, a small, sad smile on his face as he hugs his arms tighter around himself and turns his body away again. “Forget it, that’s not your problem. It’s my cross to bear, you’ve.. you’ve done more for me than I could ever do for you.”</p><p>Stan very, very slowly cracks a smile.</p><p>“...is this some roundabout way of you saying you’re sorry?”</p><p>Ford groans under his breath, hands curling into fists in the fabric of his sweater. “If you’re going to be a jackass, I can just go back downstairs.”</p><p>“No, no! I’m serious, it's, well. Not <i>okay</i>, I guess, but I get it. I get what you’re trying to say.”</p><p>Stan holds his hands up placatingly, trying his best to get his brother to look at him again. It doesn’t work. </p><p>“And, like,” he shrugs, “it’s alright.”</p><p>In the following pin-drop silence, Ford takes a minute to focus on his breathing. It’s steady, it’s safe, he’s safe. Stanley is safe. It’s agonizingly slow, but he manages to make eye contact with him, and this time he holds it. He’s met with a small, hesitant smile that he can’t quite make himself return.</p><p>“It’s not.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“It’s not alright.”</p><p>“Well.. fine. It wasn’t. But, you know, it can be. Going forward.”</p><p>“..yeah.”</p><p>-</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>to be continued maybe? I kind of want to have them tear up the living room and make a fort like Old Times (tm) but i'm tired rn. let me know if you'd want to see that lol</p></blockquote></div></div>
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